A Shifting of Priorities
by mypiratecat1
Summary: Slightly humorous, sweet one shot.  Elizabeth observes William and Jack, and thinks about some interesting changes in them all since they all met.


_**Disclaimer**__: I hate to tell Mickey this, but someday I will "take what I can... an' give nothin' back!"_

_**Author's note**__: Same thing. Anyone who reads my stories knows that William has been released from the Dutchman, with conditions and with Jack's help, and he and his little family serve the Mighty Black Pearl and her incredible captain.. and I don't mean Hector Barbossa, although I loves him, too. Pirate Cat_

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Elizabeth studied the pair before her as she looked up from mending some rigging. She had been sitting upon the main deck for the better part of the morning, humming to herself as Little Will napped in his basket, nestled into a folded blanket upon the smooth deck of the Black Pearl. In needing to stretch a bit, she looked up to the quarterdeck and smiled as she watched William and Jack pour over a chart... William leaned in close to say something into Jack's ear, so as not to let Mr. Cotton in upon his comment, and Jack's face broke into a wide grin, as he gave William a sidelong glance through owl-like kohl lined eyes. She sighed with amusement. She never know what the pair found to laugh about so much between the two of them, but amusedly, she shook her head and smiled, also.

Strange, she mused to herself, that the pair before her that she loved so dearly had changed so much in the last two years, yet remained the same. She let her mind wander, as the sea breezes caressed her own tanned face... admiringly, she gazed at her handsome husband... the former captain of the ghostly Flying Dutchman, and now the proud first mate of the ship that was now their home.

William Turner the Second... a shy boy when they first met at the age of twelve... a shy boy who grew into a shy young man, a blacksmith's apprentice who was steadfast and true, loyal and brave. In those ways, he had not changed. But when their wedding was stopped by Lord Cutler Beckett, a new man emerged. A man who found out that piracy was sometimes the only way to save ones that you loved... including the man standing next to him, who had taught the ways of piracy to both William and Elizabeth almost too well.

Before, William had always walked the straight and narrow, almost afraid to show the world that he even had a sense of humor. He was a blacksmith, which was a dirty and sweaty profession, but he prided himself in being starched and clean, hair always severely pulled back, and beard trimmed to perfection. A new man emerged, indeed.

He was essentially the same, now, but meeting Jack Sparrow and time spent aboard the Flying Dutchman had made him glory in toiling toward other ends. He seemed to welcome getting grimy, if it meant that he could pull a net from the sea with his own, living warm hands... a net with a fresh catch for everyone's evening meal, and then help to clean the catch, flinging guts and fish heads all over the deck ... as the captain of the ship watched, his own dark face screwed up in distaste. Jack hated cleaning fish. He'd had enough of that when he was without a ship.. he would have to catch fish, sometimes, to have something to quell the hunger that he'd felt keenly whilst he had no place to call his home.

Like Jack, William seemed to revel in joining the crew in drinking, these days, even if he was quieter by nature, it did not mean that he did not enjoy the bawdy storytelling... Elizabeth blushed a bit, thinking of when William would have been mortified to hear some of the songs that were sung aboard a pirate vessel, and now he laughed and sang right along with Jack the rest of their pirate family... he definitely was no longer the stick- in-the-mud that Jack and Joshamee Gibbs had observed so astutely in Tortuga City when they were first putting together a crew.

William was no longer constantly starched and clean, nor had he any desire to be so... his sash was frayed at the ends, his curly dark hair was luxuriously long, and blowing all about his tanned face most times, with a light blue bandana wrapped about his head, golden earring sparkling in the sun. His eyes shone with a pride that had not been there when he was younger... intense pride in himself, pride in his family, pride in his survival with the help of his slight, dark captain. William's own attitude was no longer starched and clean... he was truly a pirate... and enjoying it. William liked being first mate... he oversaw the crew and ship so that her captain could attend to the duties that kept them all together...Elizabeth smiled, as she thought of a time when she thought that Jack Sparrow was the most disgusting, disorganized rum-soaked derelict that she had ever met. He, too, was full of surprises.

Jack Sparrow had been grimy, frayed, weathered and beaten down, yet he had sailed into Port Royal like he was royalty, himself. Elizabeth looked back at a time when she only knew of the captain by his legend... she had not taken into consideration until much later that he was a man who was homeless, for the better part of ten years, searching for his ship.. homeless and simply doing his best to survive.

He had slept under bridges, in barns, in alleyways and had gone for days without decent food. He'd rarely had an opportunity to bathe properly, and she knew that there were nights that he spent in a willing wench's room, each time simply to get out of hurricane winds and rain. Well, of course, the wench was willing, she giggled, but he mostly wanted to get out of the weather, every time. She had no doubt, as she looked back, that he had pilfered from these women, whether it be money, toiletry items for his own use, or simply their honour for letting him into their room, to begin with, all without so much as removing his hat! She grinned at Jack Sparrow's charming audacity... an audacity that had eventually saved William from his curse and had reunited them all.

Her thoughts turned a bit guilty, as she remembered a time when she had made a comment about his personal hygiene, simply because he had pushed her too far with his taunts and challenges, and he had made her angry... he had said it was a trifle, but she found out later that it had hurt his feelings. Surprisingly, Jack Sparrow could be just as clean as anyone, and rather prefered it that way. In his taunts and challenges to her, she realized, he was only pushing her to reach beyond the constraints that she and William had both placed upon themselves... choking, confining... and she had answered him with childish insults.

Her face clouded, even as she observed the two handsome men before her. Jack's stay in The Locker had changed him forever. He had always disliked sand... he now was almost obsessively abhorrant of it. The Locker was unbearable heat, bright everpresent sun... no darkness, only blinding light, burning heat... and sand. So much sand. She recalled the last time that they went ashore, and she had watched Jack tiptoe across a beach, almost daintily, as though he thought the sand would seep right through his soles, and grind into his very toes. He hated it.

He had become obsessive about washing his face... his hands... his black dreadlocked hair, properly bathing all over when he could... washing his garments, hanging his linen shirts in the sun to bleach. Anything to keep from feeling like there was sand... she was constantly observing him rinsing his waist long dark hair, muttering to himself, and retying the dreads with red string.

She and William would stop him, at times, his hands had become red and raw from obsessive washing... to get rid of the sand, Jack would say... she remembered when they had discovered the washbasin and cakes of milled soaps in his cabin, along with a bottle of fine French hair oil with essence of coconut... she had thought him vain, then, but had since found out that Jack did not enjoy dirt... it was simply a fact of life at times.

Just as William seemed to welcome getting grimy and frayed - a firm departure from his former life in Port Royal - Jack seemed to go the opposite direction... or perhaps he had always been that way, but had hidden it so as not to be made fun of... who had ever really heard of a clean pirate? She even thought about his habit of tucking a napkin under his chin at mealtime, and the neatness of his cabin... who would have guessed?

Looking down at her own hands, tanned and roughened by life aboard a ship, Elizabeth tilted her head and thought it over. Odd, she thought, that she would welcome roughened hands and tanned skin... sun bleached hair and lack of bathing facilities, save for the washbasin that she and William kept under their bunk in their cabin, like Jack had. She had been rid of corsets and the life that she had associated with it, forever... she shrugged off getting a bit dirty at times... a fine thing for the daughter of the governor of Jamaica, until Lord Cutler Beckett had arrived... he had gotten his reward at the hands of the father of her son, and their best friend, she thought.

She looked down at Little Will, who was now awake and waving his small fists in the air, stretching and feeling the sea wind in his own curly hair. Smiling, Elizabeth reached down and took her baby into her arms, and rocked him, contentedly. Looking back up at her two beloved men upon the quarterdeck, she filled with pride. They had all changed, but perhaps it was an evolution of pride, a shifting of priorities. As William and Jack came down to the main deck to pull up chairs to join her, she shook her head... unlike Cutler Beckett, she had recieved rewards of another kind, she thought.

Who would think, she laughed to herself, that William Turner the Second would enjoy hacking the heads off of the fish for the evening meal, and that Jack Sparrow would end up giving Elizabeth Swann Turner a brand new cake of fine milled soap that had been in his own possession, so that she could be as clean as he was.. who would think...

She giggled... and William and Jack looked at each other and wondered why... a shifting of priorities, was her only answer.

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End file.
